#but I'll try to dip my toe in here and there

[metalhoops]

Steddie Week Day 1: Hunger / Pining / Somebody to Love by Queen

The moon cut through the trees beyond the pines of the stranger’s bedroom. It turned her pale skin silver and her dark hair blue. She wasn’t a stranger. Steve reminded himself. 

She was a girl, named after a month or a flower. Steve couldn’t remember. He’d done all the right things. He’d taken her to the movies, paid for their dinner, despite neither having touched their food and told her she was pretty. She was beautiful but he couldn’t remember a thing about her. 

God, he should’ve been better than this. This was the kind of person he’d been back in high school. He’d been starving for attention and craving attraction, never wanting to be alone. He’d slept with her because he knew it meant he could stay the night. 

He’d done the same thing before Nancy when Tommy and Carol had been busy and he hadn’t wanted to stumble home to the silence of his house. He’d told himself he was better than what he was doing, but he’d done it anyway. 

She hadn’t been looking for a relationship. Steve remembered that distinctly. He was always looking for a relationship. It was a sign that he should’ve called it a night after dinner, kissed her cheek and headed off to save himself the heartache. He knew if he slept with her once, he’d want to do it again. Not because he liked her, but because he liked being wanted. 

He’d sleep with her again if he got the chance. He’d sleep with her until he fell in love with her and that’s when she’d end things. Steve didn’t know how to love half-way and people always knew. He fell in love with the wrong people. 

Hawkins had gone to hell, and he hadn’t wanted to spend another night alone. He could’ve asked Robin to come over, but that would mean admitting something was wrong. He’d wanted to ask Eddie. 

The men had grown closer since Eddie left the hospital, closer than Steve cared to admit. He’d been avoiding Eddie in the same way he’d been avoiding the silence of his home. He had the habit of falling in love with the wrong people and soon the boy would work it out. 

When Steve finally unpicked the mess of feelings he had for Eddie and saw it for what it really was, love, he’d run from it. Not because Eddie was a guy, though Steve would be lying if he’d said that hadn’t surprised him. That hadn’t been what had shaken him. For Steve Harrington, love always ended badly. He wanted Eddie to stick around, so he’d been avoiding him, contradictory as it was. 

The girl slept with the radio on because she couldn’t stand the silence. It was something she and Steve had in common. She’d fallen asleep hours before. He’d been listening to rock ballad after rock ballad, his mood growing ever the more sour because of it. He ground his teeth and clutched the sheets as Freddie Mercury’s lyrics mirrored his internal dialogue. Cheesy as it sounded, all he wanted at that moment was somebody to love. 

His heart in his chest pounded like it did in the last quarter of his championship game or in the moments before he was about to break his swimming PB. He remembered the same feeling washing over him as a child when he heard his father’s footfalls on the steps as he arrived home from an overseas trip. He’d crawl under the bed, count to one hundred and wait for the thunderstorm in his chest to settle. He was having a panic attack. 

Steve leapt out of bed without thinking, shook the girl's shoulder and told her he was leaving. He didn’t hear her response. 

Steve didn’t know how he got to Robin’s house, but he found himself at her door pounding on the knocker despite the late hour, trying to come up with a way to make it up to Mr and Mrs Buckley for waking them up at an ungodly hour. The house remained silent. No one answered the door. 

Shit. Robin and her family were in Michigan for her grandmother’s birthday. Steve knew that. Still, when his life felt like it was going to shit, he went to Robin. He didn’t know what to do without her. 

He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. Robin was better. If she were there, she’d be able to tell Steve what he was thinking, but she wasn’t. He was alone. He’d have to work it out for himself. 

He sat on the Buckley’s front stoop, pulled his knees to his chest and tried to understand why he felt like someone was crushing his ribs with a hydraulic press. He was overcome with an onslaught of conflicting emotions. Wanting. Shame for wanting. Irritation at the shame. Indignation at the conflicting soup of sensations that rose, fell and mingled within him. He felt like he was going to puke, but nothing happened. More than anything else, he didn’t want to be alone. For once, he didn’t want to be with a stranger, either. 

He pulled himself together for long enough to drive to the trailer park. He cut his headlights at the turnoff and navigated the dirt road to the Munson’s trailer blind. He didn’t hop out of the car. The digital clock let him know it was three in the morning. The lights were still on in the trailer, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to get out of the BMW. He’d been avoiding Eddie. He needed to turn around and go home, but he couldn’t. 

Steve’s shallow breaths fogged the windows of the Beamer, turning the world outside into a haze of light and darkness. He had no idea what he was doing. 

The wrapping of knuckles against the car door made Steve jump so high his knees collided with the steering wheel. Eddie’s blurry visage appeared on the other side of the glass, his hands cupped around his eyes, the facsimile of binoculars as he peered in jokingly at Steve. Something in Steve’s face wiped the smirk from Eddie’s. He opened the driver’s door and crouched back on his haunches so he and Steve were face to face, his wide brown eyes raking over Steve’s body, searching for something in the features. 

“Did something happen?” Eddie asked in place of a ‘hello’. 

Steve wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words, hell he couldn’t find any words. He managed to shake his head and let his vision drop to his lap. 

Eddie moved closer, but Steve pulled back. It was a knee-jerk response he’d built up in their time apart. Don’t let Eddie get too close. Then he’ll never know. Eddie bit his lip and shrugged off his jacket. It wasn’t the same one he’d given Steve months before. That one was past the point of no return, but it felt like a mirrored memory. He held it out to Steve. When the boy gave the fabric a perplexed look Eddie rolled his eyes and whispered. 

“For your modesty, dude. Remember?” Eddie vaguely gestured in Steve’s direction. He realised he hadn’t bothered to get dressed. He sat there in nothing but his underwear. Yeah. Great move, Harrington. 

“You wanna come in?” Eddie asked, backing away, giving Steve his space. 

“Okay,” Steve replied, proud he’d managed to do something other than gawk. He pulled Eddie’s jacket tightly around his body and let himself be led into the Munsons’ living room. 

Steve collapsed on the faded couch, placing one of the cushions in his lap, feeling suddenly aware of his lack of clothes and the chill in the air. At least his breathing was back to normal. That was something. The whole place smelled of cigarettes. Steve inhaled deeply.

Eddie busied himself in the kitchen, grabbing two mugs from Wayne’s collection. Of course, Eddie grabbed the stupid Garfield mug, which Steve knew was his favourite. He gave Steve a new mug each time he was over. Sometimes they’d brandish names of nowhere towns or fast-food chains, and other times it’d be some niche pop culture memorabilia. That night, he placed the ‘My Little Pony’ mug, complete with its baby pink handle and faded rainbow, usually reserved for Dustin, in Steve’s hand. 

He drank deeply. It was hot chocolate. Eddie sat beside him. His body was close, but not close enough to touch. Eddie was warm. 

“You want to talk about it?” Eddie asked, rolling his head across the back of the couch, his eyes never quite meeting Steve’s. 

“Not yet,” Steve reasoned. Not tonight. It wasn’t the night for confessions. He didn’t want to lose Eddie, not yet. 

“You hungry?” Steve hadn’t realised he was until Eddie asked.

“Starving,” He confessed, not looking up to meet Eddie’s gaze. 

The warmth at his side was gone for an instant. Once more there was a rattle from the kitchen. Steve’s fingers absentmindedly traced the mug’s faded rainbow.

“You’re not going to puke are you Stevie? You look a little green around the gills,” Eddie called over his shoulder. Steve shook his head. 

“Are we okay, Steve?” Eddie asked after a moment, his voice hesitant. 

When Steve looked up, Eddie wasn’t looking at him. He was busy digging through the pantry. Maybe he’d needed to ask the question when his back was turned. The former king had never heard the boy sound so small. 

Steve was busy working out how to reply when Eddie ploughed on.

“Because a week ago you just dropped off the edge of the map, dude. I saw you every goddamn day, twice a day, for months, then nothing. And then you show up out of the blue, in the middle of the night, in your underwear, looking like Vecna’s come back for round two. You’re not giving me much to go off here, so I’ve gotta ask. Are we good? Did I do something wrong?” Eddie spoke in a flurry, never turning to face Steve. Nevertheless, Steve saw right through him. He’d screwed things up already, hadn’t he? 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I did something wrong,” Steve spoke, admitting more than he’d intended. 

Eddie finally turned to face him, a cereal box in one hand and a perplexed look on his face. He looked like he wanted to push for more, but understood Steve was seconds away from turning and running. 

The boy returned to Steve’s side, flopping gracelessly onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He handed Steve the box and watched as the boy eyed it cautiously. 

“I know it’s no breakfast bagel, but we haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks. It’s the best we’ve got.”

Steve Harrington was used to living his life in a particular way. He’d always had to be put together, well-mannered, and the kind of kid his parents would be proud of. All that to say, Steve had never eaten cereal out of the box with his hands. It felt odd and primal in a way he hadn’t anticipated.  

“How’d you know about the breakfast bagels?” 

He hadn’t eaten breakfast bagels since high school. Without swim training every morning, he had time to cook himself actual food, something more variable than his old faithful breakfast bagel. Maybe Eddie had been talking to Robin. 

“I just... I noticed you sometimes, back in high school. We had a few classes together and you were kind of a big deal, you know, Harrington,” Steve looked down, a knot growing in his stomach. 

He passed the cereal over to Eddie and watched the boy’s hands plunge into the depths of the box. He ate unabashedly, open-mouthed. Steve should’ve found it disgusting. He didn’t. He had it bad. 

“You couldn’t do anything wrong when it comes to you and me. You know that, right?” Eddie asked after a moment, returning to the subject Steve was desperately retreating from. 

“You don’t know what it is yet. If you did...” Steve’s throat seized up. He remembered another night, with Robin in a bathroom stall. The details were fuzzy, hazed over by drugs, but the words came back to him now. Robin’s words in his mouth. Robin’s words, seconds before she came out. Steve had told himself he wasn’t doing that, not tonight, yet here he was. 

“You wouldn’t want to be my friend.” Eddie’s brows drew together, seeming to understand the enormity of the situation. He swallowed thickly, squared off his shoulders and looked Steve dead in the eye.

“Try me,” He breathed. All bravado. Steve noticed a tremble in his voice. 

Now or never. He’d have to rip the damn band-aid off. 

“I came here because I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to be next to anyone but you,” the words gushed from Steve’s lips. As soon as they were out, he wanted to take them back. 

He didn’t look at Eddie, couldn’t look at him, though he noticed a flurry of movement as his leg bounced up and down rapidly, all nervous energy. It wasn’t as though Steve and Eddie hadn’t slept beside each other before, but this was different. Eddie had to know what Steve meant. When it came to his feelings, he was always so damn transparent. 

“I stopped hanging out with you because I didn’t want you to know...” The words stuck in Steve’s throat. He turned his eyes skyward, wishing for some kind of divine intervention, maybe another apocalypse, anything to stop him from having to admit it. 

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, imploring the boy to look at him through tone alone. Despite his better judgment, Steve did. 

Eddie’s brown eyes were open, his face the picture of sympathy and understanding. Steve didn’t want it. He gritted his teeth and returned his eyes to his hands. 

“Steve... you know I’m gay, right?” Eddie said, his hand appearing on Steve’s knee, giving it a squeeze. He hadn’t, but then again, it wasn’t as big a surprise as it should be. 

“No, but...you know, the last two people I loved didn’t love me back. Even if you do like guys, my track record is pretty shit,” Steve reasoned, then realised what he’d said as Eddie’s hand tightened on his knee. 

“Shit. I didn’t mean that. Well- I did, but... that’s intense. Right? Too intense,” Steve rambled, wondering if Robin was rubbing off on him. He still couldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie’s hand brushed Steve’s cheek, startling the boy and causing him to look over once more. Eddie didn’t look freaked out or disgusted, as Steve had worried he was. He didn’t look pitying either, as Robin had on the floor of the bathroom when he’d confessed to her. If anything, Eddie looked relieved. 

“You know Steve, ‘intense’ is one of my favourite adjectives. You think I dance around on tables because of my quiet and well-adjusted demeanour? If you asked someone to describe me,  the word ‘intense’ is going to come up. Not to mention I’ve been nursing a crush on you since my first go at senior year with your stupid floppy hair and you’re too-tight basketball shorts."

“You never mentioned...” Steve’s voice was drowned out by Eddie’s snort. 

“Of course, I didn’t. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell you liked me back and it was-”

“Intense,” Steve finished with a wry smile. Eddie nodded, too enthusiastically, his face suddenly very close to Steve’s. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Eddie breathed, pausing for a second to check if it was okay with Steve. 

He couldn’t wait. He surged forward, crushing their lips together. It was intense, just the way they liked it. 

#steddieweek2023 #steddie #steddieweek #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #steddie ficlet #fic #drabble #stranger things 4 #long post #day one #steddieweekprompts #day 1 #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #IDK if I'll do #the whole week #because I'm hella busy #but I'll try to dip my toe in here and there #Metalhoops writes

[esaari]

tumblr's kinda boring lately huh

#2 am thoughts or actual desire to stop posting on social media #who knows i dont #i have time to be here (unemployed ayyy) but i dunno what to do here #i would like to interact more here but i dont knooow hooooowwwwwwwwwwwww #mayb ive been gone too much the past year that my accounts are kinda dying who knows #not that i've tried to keep them ALIVE #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh #maybe i'll draw more stupid oc content for my own amusement #maybe i'll dip my toes into writing oc things #been wanting to for a long time but i am not good at the words #still think that could be a fun creative thing maybe. i would not share any of it LMAO #for i do not wish to be laughed at for my terrible grammar and such #it's easier to just answer oc questions when they come lmaoo at least i know then what people want to know #might try to get back into 3D too #look at me saying i wanna do stuff and then proceeding to do none of em prolly cus im a trash bag #while im here ranting i just finished rewatching the tv series Hannibal and eugha it is too good still #i just want season 4 of murder husbands is that really too much to ask for

[neonpigeons]

god I wish I had the patience for video editing

#my issues before was i was using bad editing software #but i have good software now... maybe I'll dip my toe in #once my new computer gets here anyway #my current laptop has an i7-5500U CPU @ 2.40GHz #my new one has an i9-12900HK 5.0 GHz processor #im going to be ZOOMING #currently making gifs is like. trying to trudge through a swamp. it takes a long while lol #also going to upgrade from 12 gb to 64 gb of RAM #im totally splurging tbh but it's worth it i neeeed a top of the line laptop #sorry im not trying to brag im just very excited lol #ari speaks #delete later

[thebibliosphere]

In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.

Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."

Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."

And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.

Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.

My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.

And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"

And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.

Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.

I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.

The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:

ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.

(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)

And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."

And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.

#personal #batfam #emotional trauma #death mention #emotional damage #batmuppet

[woso-dreamzzz]

Firsts IV

Hardersson x Preteen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first period

You've just come home from school when you ask about it.

It was one of the rare days you went in, an English test that you couldn't miss but Magda knew you would ace. You'd only been in for half a day and one of your friend's mothers had driven you back instead of making you take the bus.

Magda's typing away at her laptop when you come in, toeing off your shoes and moving your portable phone charger from your school bag into the training bag waiting by the door.

You dip into the kitchen to grab a snack.

"Morsa?" You call.

"Hmm, yeah?" Magda doesn't take her eye off her screen.

"Where are the sanitary pads?"

"Er..." Magda has to think for a moment. She hasn't used one in a while. "Cabinet in the downstairs bathroom, I think? Why?"

You give her an odd look as you pass on your way there. "I started my period at school today."

"Oh, okay." She nods and goes back to typing.

It's only when you disappear into the bathroom, that her brain catches up with what you've said.

"What do you mean you've started your period?! Princesse? Princesse!"

You return a few minutes later. "I started my period."

"You're twelve!"

You give her another odd look, little crinkle between your brows. "I know, Morsa. I'm old enough to have one now."

Magda looks around wildly, looking for any support she can get but Pernille's still at work and it's just her with you.

"Okay," She says, more to herself than anyone else," Okay. Right, your period." Her throat bobs. "Alright, so...Periods are when-"

"Morsa, are you trying to give me the talk?"

"Listen," Magda says," I know this is going to be awkward but stay with me here. We're going to work through this together. Periods are when-"

"Morsa...I've already been given the talk."

Magda's world comes crashing down. "What do you mean you've already been given the talk?!"

"We went over it in biology," You say with a shrug," And I've already taken some painkillers." You frown. "Am I still okay to go to practice tonight?"

Magda's not keeping up at all as her mouth hangs open and she tries to equate your age with the fact that you've started your period. It didn't make sense at all.

You still slept with your plushies. You couldn't be nearly old enough to start your period, let alone rummaging around the period products without a care in the world. Magda doesn't think she's overreacting but you're being strangely calm about this all, your only worry being about if you would still be able to go to training.

"Okay," Magda says even though none of this is even remotely okay," So...You started your period at school?"

"Yeah but some of my friends had pads that I can use so it's not a big deal."

You're being so nonchalant about this that Magda is really worrying she's ended up in some alternate universe where she's being outrageously hysterical about this whole thing.

"And you've already taken some painkillers?"

"Yes."

"And you're wondering if you're allowed to go to practice today?"

"Morsa? Are you okay? You've been acting a little weird..."

"I'm not acting weird!" Magda's voice goes embarrassingly high pitched. "This is all completely fine! Better than fine! Amazing!"

The look you're giving her is clearly one of worry and you cautiously reach the back of your hand up to measure her temperature.

"What's going on?" Pernille comes in just as you place your hand on Magda's forehead.

"Morsa's acting weird," You declare," And she's not answering my questions."

"I'll answer your questions," Pernille says as she hangs up her coat and unlaces her shoes," What do you want to know?"

"Can I still go to practice even though I've started my period?"

"You've started your period? Well done, princesse. If you still want to go to practice then go. Just make sure to snack a little bit during breaks and keep drinking. Have you taken painkillers?"

You nod.

"Take some with you, just in case. Now, what's wrong with your Morsa?"

You shrug. "I don't know. She's been acting weird ever since I got back."

"Magda? Is something wrong?"

Mutely, Magda shakes her head. Pernille's being calm too. Maybe she is blowing this out of proportion.

"Just...Work stuff is a little stressful," She lies, not wanting to admit that the idea of you having started your period is stressing her out.

Thankfully, both you and Pernille seem to take that as fact.

"Well," Pernille says, turning back to you," I'll log it in my calendar and we'll start tracking them. The first few are going to be a little bit irregular so we'll see how it goes. Once they're more consistent, we'll talk about moving you onto tampons, if you want. They're a bit easier to play with."

Magda stays rooted to the sofa. She's going to have to come to terms with you starting your periods but the idea of you using tampons is a bit too big for her to cope with at the moment.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

[luveline]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRmjSQCe/

i saw this and thought of eddie and roan and roan hiding the readers stuff so she can't leave

okay i thought it would be so sweet if the first time you eddie asks you to spend the night is totally roan's fault but of course you're down cos it's mechanic girl dad!eddie o.O (fem!reader)

"Eddie?" you call, mildly perplexed. "You didn't move my shoes, did you?"

"Huh?"

You raise your voice so he can hear you over the sound of the washing machine and the running faucet. "My shoes, handsome! Have you seen them?"

Eddie throws the hand towel over his shoulder looking every bit as attractive as your pet name implies, work shirt still tucked into his form-fitting pants, hair pulled away from his face in a wild, low-lying pony tail. "They're right-" He stops at your side, his hand sliding around your back. You try not to melt into his touch. You're supposed to be leaving. "Here," he says, dumbfounded. "They were right here. Um..."

"Maybe I took them off by the couch?" you murmur, more to yourself than him. Eddie rubs a line up and down your hip, the issue more curious than urgent.

"Maybe," he agrees, dark brows pinching together. "Huh."

You peel away from him reluctantly and slip around the couch. There's no shoes in sight, only a very primly sitting Roan in the middle where you left her.

"Hey, baby," you say distractedly, lifting her blanket to check the floor underneath. You search the carpet like they might be hiding in plain view and find nothing. When you pull your head back up she's looking at you strangely. "I've lost my shoes. Have you seen them?"

"No."

You narrow your eyes at her tone, theatrically suspicious. "Are you lying to me, little miss?"

"No," she says again.

Her no's are nervous like she's holding in a laugh. You scrutinise the way she's sitting, the way her back's not quite touching the couch cushions.

"Hmm, okay. Would you help me look, please?"

Roan seems like she might stand and then drops back down. "No."

"No?" You pout at her dramatically, doing your best to look upset. "Okay, I guess I'll look by myself."

Eddie returns from his own searching and shrugs at you. "Babe, I don't know where they are. Seriously, s'like they've disappeared."

You dip your head as inconspicuously as you can toward his daughter, eyes flitting between them both suggestively. His face fills with clarity.

"Roan, you haven't seem them, have you?" Eddie asks, smirking at you.

"No," she lies, obvious and endearing simultaneously. She can't look at him as she does.

"Roan Munson," he says.

She looks up, deer-in-the-headlights. "Daddy?"

"You gonna sit there on your butt or are you gonna help us look?" he asks.

She shrinks with relief for a second before panic flits across her face. Finally, she flops back like she's going to have a sulk and says, "I'm tired, daddy," while giving Eddie the biggest, sweetest doe eyes ever.

He laughs. You glare at him reproachfully and lean down to kiss the top of her head. You can see the rubber toe of one shoe sticking out behind her.

"Roan," you say patiently, squatting down in front of her with her face cradled in your hands. "I need my shoes, baby."

She crumples like wet paper, the kind of quick tears that come with childhood panic. It shocks you into reassuring her, clumsy and nowhere as elegant as Eddie would be.

You move onto your knees. "Roan. You're not in trouble or anything, it's okay."

Fear hits you in the chest like a flat palm. Fat tears roll down her cheeks and pool at the apple of her tiny chin. You throw your gaze to Eddie for help.

He comes to kneel beside you and steal one of her hands, unfurling the tight fist she's made. "You're okay, you can calm down," he says, sympathetic but firm. "Nobody's mad."

"I don't want her to go home," she cries.

You rub your lips together. "You'll see my again on Friday, princess."

"I want to see you again now." Her voice cracks in two different places. You offer your open palm and take her other hand, side-eyeing Eddie for some assistance.

"She can't stay tonight," he tells her regretfully.

"But why?" she demands.

"I have things I need to do. I have to feed my fish, and wash my clothes for work, I have to have a shower. All my things are at my house." You try to explain as Eddie does, calm and careful.

"You can have my clothes."

Eddie chokes back his laughter and runs the flat of his palm up her arm soothingly. "How about... on Friday, if it's okay with Y/N, she can stay and have a sleepover with us?" He looks at you to make sure his offer is okay.

You jump in. "Oh my god, yes! I'll feed my fish lots and lots and bring my pajamas and I'll stay for two days."

"Really?" Roan asks hopefully.

"Really really. I'll be here all night."

She takes a deep breath. Eddie rubs her arm in encouragement for the long, slow minutes it takes her to calm down. You can tell he's pleased at how well she's accepting the compromise.

"Okay," she says, sad but nowhere near as upset as she had been.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"You have to go?" she asks again.

You smile at her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have to. You'll be fine when I do, you'll see. And you can't tell me your poor back isn't hurting from my shoes, princess."

She leans forward. Eddie grabs your shoes.

"Thank you," you say. "Doesn't your back feel better?"

"No," she whines.

You frown at her. She takes her hands back and before you have the time to worry she's reaching for your shoulders.

You pull her up into your arms for a hug obligingly. One hand behind her head of dark hair, the other at her back, you rake your fingers through the silken softeness of her curls and smile like a fool. She's small, impossibly heavy, a heat against your chest that feels right.

When you look up you find Eddie staring and give him a sheepish smile. You're not sure how much you're allowed to love her — how could you not? — and you feel a tad embarrassed when he catches you like this.

"Is that cool?" he says under his breath.

You nod voraciously, pat-pat-patting Roan's back. You'd love to spend the night. The thought of sharing a bed with him gives you butterflies.

He turns his head to the side and leans in for a kiss. It's a short peck like he's trying to make it quick, but then he laughs softly and gives you another.

"Thank you," he says.

You clear your throat. "Of course. Can't wait."

-

more eddie and roan

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie and roan #stranger things 4 #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader

[cryptidghostgirl]

Destruction//Creation (Vox x Alastor's ex!Reader x Alastor)

Pairing: Technically Vox x Alastor but also a little Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor refuses to let the past die and Y/n would rather pretend it never existed.

Warnings: Mild angst. Mentions of a past unhealthy relationship. I'll write some fluff of my own accord soon, I promise.

Word Count: 1,523

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

The party was supposed to be a fundraiser of sorts, designed to get the word about the Hazbin Hotel out into the world after their numerous previous failed attempts at doing so. Charlie had insisted all the overlords be there and even when Alastor had tried to leave the Vees off the guest list, she had caught him in the act and admonished him for it.

He cursed himself for not being quicker about it, more slick. Vox wasn't a threat but he was an annoyance and one Alastor would rather not deal with. The added threat of further dressing downs from Charlie should he fail to conduct himself in any less than perfectly pleasant in the mans presence was just the icing on the cake. Vox was screeching, he was haughty, he was overwhelmed by himself, he was-

Alastor's train of thought ran off, his breath caught in his throat. The man in questioned had entered, ready to join the fray, but that wasn't the distraction. No, the distraction came in the form of the charming little demon he was helping take off her heavy fur coat. Alastor watched as she smiled gracefully up at Vox, standing up on her tip toes and planting a tender kiss on his cheek.

How could he have forgotten? In the chaos of the past seven years, she had slipped from his mind. How had looking for her not have been the first thing he did when he was allowed any semblance of freedom? He could blame no one but himself. Now, she had fallen into the enemy's arms. Alastor bristled, seizing the opportunity of Vox bringing her coat over the to coat check Husk was running and using his shadows to appear at her side.

Y/n gasped as he materialized beside her, holding a hand to her chest in shock.

"Jesus... Al?"

Confusion marred her features as Alastor took her hand, whisking Y/n towards the dance floor.

"Hello, my dear." he smiled down at her as the music began.

It was a waltz, something by Shostakovich with all his wild rises and falls, all his nonconformity. The perfect soundtrack to their reunion, Alastor thought. Despite her shock, Y/n kept to the timing of the dance perfectly, never missing a step.

"But how... where..."

"I'm back now, darling. That is what matters."

Alastor dipped her and Y/n let out a sharp laugh. He assumed it was joy, it couldn't be anything other in his mind. She watched him in disbelief as he pulled her to her feet once again.

"I am so sorry."

She seemed only to be growing more confused by the moment. He reveled in her wonder as if it were the finest delicacy, a perfectly cooked steak. He had shown her the world again and again, he hoped never to stop having the opportunity.

"For what?"

Of course she would understand, wouldn't blame him, would know it wasn't his choice. She was always so unbelievably perfect like that, surprising him at every turn. Y/n fell into line without him ever even having to ask, it was just who she was. She didn't even have to try.

"For letting you fall into the arms of scum like that. He doesn't own your soul, does he?"

Y/n opened her mouth to speak but in his newfound joy, Alastor was unable to stop himself. How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten?

Her eyes, her smile, her sharp wit -- all of it. Y/n was and had always been, since the first day he had met her, the absolute center of his universe.

"It's no matter. That is easy enough to fix with a contract of our own."

"Alastor."

"Then everything will be all right, things will be just like the old days."

"Alastor."

He spun Y/n out, pulling her back in and catching her in his arms.

"Goodness, I've missed you."

"Alastor!" She pulled himself from his grip, panting.

They stood at the center of the dance floor, still among the whirling bodies. Y/n cleared her throat, smoothing the skirt of her dress. Alastor was thankful that the world around them seemed distracted for the moment, everyone too caught up in themselves and their own lives.

"My dear," he asked softly through gritted teeth, "what are you doing? You'll make an embarrassment of the pair of us."

"That's what I am trying to keep from happening."

"Whatever do you..."

Alastor trailed off, catching sight of Vox as he approached them, weaving in and out of the writhing mass of bodies. His eyes narrowed, his ears laid flat against his head.

Y/n leaned forward slightly, about to ask him what was wrong when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, a smile crept across her face at the sight of Vox.

"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you."

Vox caught sight of Alastor now. Alastor expected the man to attack him, to boast, to do anything except what he did which was lean down to Y/n, his voice laced with concern.

"Are you alright? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

Vox scanned her, looking for any visual signs of upset.

"No." Y/n patted Vox's hand reassuringly where it lay on her shoulder, "No I am fine, I promise."

"Alright, I am sorry. I just know..."

"I know. Thank you for remembering."

Alastor cleared his throat and Vox straightened as he and Y/n turned to face him.

"I have to ask you to leave my girlfriend alone." Vox stated.

His civility sparked something in Alastor, a familiar hunger.

"Your girlfriend?"

Before he could say another word, Y/n cut him off. She took a step forward as she spoke, Vox's hand falling from her shoulder.

"Yes, that is what I have been trying to tell you but you wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, you never do."

"But..."

Alastor was completely at a loss for words, a rare occasion. His eyes flicked back and forth between Y/n and Vox.

"What can he give you that I couldn't? What can that bucket of bolts do better than me? I wasn't right, was I? Did you sell him your soul? I know I was gone but how foolish can you be, Y/n?"

She stiffened at the sound of her name on his lips.

"He lets me breathe, Alastor!" Y/n threw her arms in the air, adding emphasis to her words, "He lets me breathe. You never did that. With you, what you said went and I had to follow perfectly, I had to..."

She took a deep breath, her hands balled into fists. Vox took a step forward, they shared a look of reassurance.

"I was never happy with you." Y/n admitted, "I am with Vox. He is a good man, he treats me well, he listens, he takes me as I am."

"And I didn't?"

"No! No, you didn't. You wanted me blood hungry and ravaged, you wanted me as destroyer but that is not who I am. It never was."

Decisively, Y/n turned to Vox, his hand slipping gently into hers. Alastor watched in a mixture of shock and horror, unable to act.

"Do you want to go get a drink?"

"That sounds like a good idea. I think I saw Velvette already over by the bar."

"Of course." Y/n smiled.

The pair's locked hands turned into locked arms. Things had been good, he had thought they had been perfect. He had seen Y/n as the other piece of himself, the extension of the whole.

"I don't understand."

Y/n and Vox froze, their backs to him. With a soft pat to Vox's arm, Y/n turned to Alastor, her expression firm.

"I don't... I thought you loved me."

He was helpless, lost and floating. Alastor's mind ran wild, trying to regain any semblance of control over the situation. There was none to be found.

"I did." Y/n nodded sadly, "For a long time. I didn't know any better, I didn't know what love had the potential to be."

A moment of silence, a heartbeat.

"And he gives you that potential."

Y/n looked at Vox over her shoulder. When she turned back to Alastor, she was smiling. Alastor had never seen her smile like that before.

"He does." she confirmed.

"Come on, sunshine." Vox hummed softly from behind her, a hand outstretched, "Let's go get that drink."

Eagerly, Y/n ran up to him, their fingers entwining once again. Just as they were about to leave Alastor, standing alone on the dance floor, Y/n looked back at him. A wild hope flashed in his heart that was dashed when he was the conflict in her eyes.

"It was nice seeing you. I am glad you're alright."

"You too." his voice was weak, blurred. There was nothing he could do to stop it from being that way.

"I hope... this hotel seems good for you. I hope it works out the way you want it to."

---

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet 

@reader3

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #the radio demon #vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox hazbin #hazbin vox #vox x you #angst #x reader angst #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #one shot #hazbin hotel one shot

[ot3]

What Is ORV?

The number one question I get asked on this blog, now answered better than ever. Today I am going to formally introduce you to Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

To start off this recommendation: ORV might very well be my favorite thing I've read. Ever. If I could only reread one thing for the rest of my life it'd be this webnovel.

My elevator pitch is this: something with the cosmic-scale goofy video game nonsense and intricate setting comparable to Homestuck in its prime, paired with the deft emotional poignancy and emotionally-driven fights of Mob Psycho 100, topped off with the sort of compassionate and heartwrenching metanarrative of Undertale.

ORV is a love letter to it's own readers. ORV revels in the joy of losing yourself in fiction, even when it's the kind of fiction that tends to be considered lowbrow or worthless. It's something that dances the delicate line between recognizing the difficult nature of using media as escapism without condemning it. I've rarely seen anything else that accomplishes everything it sets out to do in its narrative with such remarkable precision. Frankly if you're reading a tumblr media recommendation post in 2023, I can almost guarantee ORV has the kind of meat you're looking for in a narrative, whatever that may be.

The story follow the antics of protagonist Kim Dokja, a 28 year old office worker on an expiring contract, whose only real joy in life is reading his favorite massively long and massively boring webnovel. One day, the novel’s events - worldwide deathmatches aired for the entertainment of mysterious higher beings called ‘constellations’ - begin playing out in reality in a sort of reverse-isekai. Kim Dokja, the only longterm reader of this webnovel, finds himself uniquely poised to succeed based on the advantages given to him by his knowledge of future events, but the webnovel’s actual protagonist, Yoo Jonghyuk, is a violent monster who will stop at absolutely nothing to complete his goals, no matter the cost to anyone else. Kim Dokja finds himself in a delicate dance of guiding the events of the story to play out more favorably than the version he read while trying to avoid being massacred in the fallout, all while trying to see it through to the story’s end. 

Below the cut I'll go into a more in-depth (but non-spoilery) explanation of what exactly makes ORV so unique and worthwhile, and what you're in for if you choose to read it.

Clocking in at 550 chapters, and over 1.3 million words in English, ORV may seem incredibly daunting to dip your toes into, but I assure you it's worth every moment. I would read 1.3 million more words if they had them for me. Here are some things about ORV I consider to be selling points, not necessarily in any particular order:

The tone. Its funny, for starters. It is extremely funny, which is very high up on my media priority list. In ORV, there will be incredibly grim things that make you laugh, and incredibly cringe and silly anime bullshit that will hurt you as heavily as any other media you’ve seen. I always love this kind of tonal whiplash when it's well executed, and ORV probably executes it better than anything else I've seen to date.

It’s got fun and fascinating worldbuilding mechanics. the core concept being ‘reality now operates on the rules of a shitty novel’ means that the worldbuilding doesn’t have to function logically, it functions thematically. It’s explicitly stated in ORV canon that some of the internal rules governing this new reality are objectively really stupid and illogical, but they just have to roll with it because that’s what was in the book, and i think it’s a really enjoyable way to do it. This may at first sound like a copout to excuse bad worldbuilding, but I promise it isn’t. The worldbuilding is actually incredibly deeply thought out, but it doesn’t exist for the sake of rational function, it exists for the sake of furthering orv’s thematic arcs. The rules by which this universe operate do a magnificent job of strengthening the core concepts the authors are exploring.

It plays with the trappings of isekai/litrpg in a really thoughtful way. These are genres I'm not super familiar with, so I can't comment on this point too heavily, but with my limited knowledge ORV feels a lot less of a deconstruction of it's genre and more of a celebration/interrogation of it. Despite that, it's still accessible to readers such as myself who are not super familiar with these genre conventions.

It deals with morality in a really wonderful and nuanced way. there are almost no characters in ORV’s extremely large cast who are just explicitly morally condemnable, and almost every conflict allows you to understand exactly why the antagonists believe they’re in the right by opposing the actions of our protagonists. The central conflicts are never pure right and pure wrong; they’re always about contrasting goals, conflicting worldviews, and different priorities between ends and means. this makes the conflicts all feel so much more dynamic and engaging than those where the only stakes are physical harm.

The characters interpersonal relationships are some of the most interesting I've ever seen. ORV is very slow burn and it takes a long time for a lot of these to come out of the woodwork, by design, but by god once they do they fucking hit. Similar to the plot conflicts, the interpersonal conflicts also almost never occur where there’s one side clearly in the wrong. The characters are almost all genuinely attempting to do their best by each other, and the tension comes from the ways in which human communication is fundamentally imperfect and part of our feelings and intentions get lost in translation. it’s very heartwrenching and heartwarming to see unfold, in equal measure.

Following from that, it’s a narrative that really meaningfully prioritizes non-romantic relationships over romantic ones as the central focus. Orv is about love, but not about romance. Obviously there’s shipbait and the ot3 is real and good and my friend but if you’re looking for deep complex platonic, (found or otherwise) familial, and antagonistic relationships that never get ruined with forced romantic arcs, we got em baby!

The pacing is unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. from a purely technical standpoint, it is genuinely a fascinating case study in how to execute a narrative that is almost constantly escalating without exception. there is very little downtime or breathing room in orv, which is insane for something that clocks in at over a million words, and somehow, it still works. i’ve never felt more like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water than i did when i was reading orv and i can’t believe they pulled it off. it’s so interesting to read something like that.

It is a tragedy without resorting to cynicism and a very adult narrative that’s really steeped in childlike wonder. I’m a big fan of cartoons made for children. Cartoons made for children are some of my favorite things to watch, but of course children’s media will always be simplified and not very relatable to an adult audience. ORV is very much a serious and heavy adult narrative, and a deeply tragic one at that, but it never delves into torture porn. It’s a very compassionate piece of media overall, that holds a lot of reverence and sympathy for the ‘naive’ optimism of children that gets stripped down over time. if you, like me, feel more like a grown up child than an adult some days, I think it’ll hit for you.

It is extremely cathartic and meaningful. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that reading it gave me the closest thing I have ever felt to any sort of spiritual breakthrough. It helped unfuck my head a ton during some very grim times and i think the perspective it offers on the value of human life and our relationship to storytelling is a really really good one.

And if my word isn't enough, here's some reviews from satisfied customers. With that, I'll leave the rest to you, and hope you one day reach the end of the story.

#media recs #orv

[mothhball]

Hiii! Your writing for Neil is so fantastic thank you for your service <3 📼 could you maybe write one with Neil and reader Pool hopping in the summer and they have to make a run for it so they’re not caught? (Maaaybe forced proximity, friends to lovers or established relationship, some fluff, some smut.. whatever your heart desires) have a safe train ride!!!

Pairing | Neil Lewis x fem!Reader

Warnings | sickly sweet fluff! brief smut, p in v sex, pool sex, friends to lovers, Neil and Reader are very silly

Summary | pool hopping and dramatics

Words | 2k

Notes | thanks for the request!! <33 I hope the formatting works, I'm posting on mobile

MINORS DNI

"I don't know, Nels..." you glance down at the water with a skeptical twitch of your eyebrow before you decide to dip your toe in. Immediately, you pull back.

"Gah! How is it this cold? I'm cooking out here!" Neil laughs at your complaints, wiping the sweat off his brow as he watches you with fond eyes. It's easy to forget that this pool isn't even yours. Neither is this property. But you went in the middle of the day on purpose, making sure that there was no car in the driveway and no one was home.

"You need to go in quickly, that'll make it easier. Come here, I'll help you," he offers, and at first glance, he seems helpful enough. Neil is presenting himself as deceptively harmless, but the mischievous glint in his eyes is enough to make you shake your head and take a step back. You know what he's planning. You've seen that expression countless times before, know every detail of his face as closely as your own. Yet neither of you has dared to cross that final line between platonic and... something more. Maybe you're both cowards. Always tip-toeing around the what ifs and not having the guts to give the thing between you a proper name. To any outsider, you might as well be dating already. It's just that the memo hasn't reached Neil nor yourself just yet.

"Don't you dare. Stay away from me." You try to fight against the grin that's growing on your face, but the rush of dopamine is too strong.

Neil slowly stalks towards you, opening his arms. "What? I'm not doing anything... don't be like that." He pretends to take offense to your hesitation, lips pulling down into a playfully dramatic frown as he creeps closer around the edge of the pool.

"You're going in."

Before either of you know it, he's chasing you around the backyard, bare feet sprinting over the grass. You're both laughing your heads off like idiots, trying hard to outsmart the other. Eventually though, Neil closes the distance, and he wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing you to keep you from escaping.

"Got you!"

Despite your half-hearted protests, he drags you back over to the edge of the pool, dipping you dangerously low towards the surface of the water.

"Any last words?" He teases, offering you one last chance at mercy as a triumphant smirk pulls at his lips. In that moment, you know you have to try and mess with him to wipe that expression off his face. You know he has strong opinions about anything regarding pop culture, so you just decide to go for it.

"Star Wars is better than Star Trek." Silence. Those are definitely fighting words, and you're able to witness how Neil's expression twists in real time. This is no longer just bantering. This is about honor now.

"I'm sure you didn't just say that. Take it back," he demands, narrowing his eyes at you. But you stay stubborn, shaking your head. A somber expression settles on your face, and there's a crackle of dramatic energy between the two of you.

"You may come out of this victorious, but at least I spoke my truth. And you will never take that from me."

Neil immediately picks up on your eccentricities, happily joining in. His tone becomes icy as he gets into character, playing the role of your summery executioner quite well.

"Your truth is wrong. You'd have to be blind to ignore the intricacies in the world-building and the far more fleshed-out character arcs and coherent storytelling," he hisses, giving your waist a little squeeze to drive his point home. You wheeze in response.

"Star Trek is far more rooted in scientific facts. Star Wars is for chicks with mask kinks. So take. It. Back." In a moment that couldn't be staged more perfectly than this, a breeze wafts through the backyard, tousling Neil's hair and driving a shiver up your spine.

"You're a fool, Neil. A fool," you murmur, glaring at him like he's committing the ultimate betrayal.

"Is it a sin to enjoy the whimsical nature of nonsensical physics? Is it a sin to witness man's creativity in scenarios that are absurd and stupid? Is it a sin to watch silly little men with silly little helmets?"

You look off into the distance, pausing for dramatic effect.

"If that's the case, then I accept my punishment."

"Then your punishment shall be the pit." With that, he lets go of you, causing you to plunge into the pool below in a scene that would truly be Oscar-worthy. The cool water surrounds you, but the warmth in your chest remains. Neil was right. It really is easier to go in fast and all at once. You’ve been hesitating for far too long, denying yourself relief and enjoyment.

A push. That's all what was missing.

Neil jumps in right after you, bringing you back up to the surface with his gentle hands on your skin as he holds you up bridal-style. Of course, he's still in character.

"Oh God... what have I done... talk to me. Talk to me, damnit!"

You try to stay as limp as possible, but it only takes a moment for the both of you to start laughing again. Your heart hasn’t felt this light in a long, long time. But with Neil, it might as well be soaring up into the cloudless sky.

"We're so stupid," you manage to get out between giggles, and Neil just shrugs in response, looking down at you with a grin so bright that he could pass off as your own personal sun.

"Maybe. But there's no one else I'd rather be stupid with."

You're not sure if he knows what kind of impact his words have on you, and as you look up at him to meet his eyes, a moment of silence settles over the two of you. Both of you just study each other for a while. Curious, as if you've only met for the first time, and your heart wanders further up into your throat with every passing second.

Neil breaks the spell first, swallowing heavily, and a drop of water falls from his hair to land right on your cheek where his gentle thumb wipes it away.

"You make me nervous."

You blink in response, not sure how to take this comment, but he's generous enough to continue and elaborate.

"I never know how to act around you... I... I love being around you, but God, my self-control is being tested every time we hang out," he confesses, and you spot the hint of a lovely pink on his cheeks. Is this the part where you get your hopes up?

"Maybe you shouldn't hold yourself back from... doing whatever it is that you want to do? Maybe... maybe doing it would be a good thing?" You test the waters, and to your delight, Neil leans down to rest his forehead against yours, his voice lowering to a soft murmur.

"Yeah?"

“Yeah. Just… take the plunge, Neil.”

He nods at your words. Slowly, thoughtfully. And he bites his lip, studying the way the light hits your eyes. Eyes that he could get lost in for hours on end. The last distance between the two of you closes almost by itself, and pretty quickly, you are locked in a kiss that’s almost as heated as the sun that’s blasting down on you. Neil still has you in his arms, touching and feeling you with the desperation of a man that has been deprived of the thing he’s been wanting for years. Which would be nothing but the truth.

Your shaking hands are tangled in his dripping hair, gently tugging at his scalp which causes him to groan against your tongue and pull you over to press you up against the edge of the pool. The water splashes around you, and your nose is filled with the scent of chlorine and the sunscreen that you forced on Neil earlier. Stubborn idiot. But as it turns out, he’s now your stubborn idiot. For a blissfully long moment, you get to make out with him, and your world shrinks down in size, encompassing just the two of you. His heaving chest against yours, his skin beneath your fingers, and his hands that reach under your knees and hold you up against his body.

A soft moan slips from your lips as he dares to pull your bikini bottoms to the side to slip his dick inside of you. And fuck, does it feel right. You should’ve done this ages ago, but now, the reward feels even sweeter. Neil whispers your name against your throat, setting an impatient pace of thrusts as he fucks into your fluttering pussy, and you hold onto him with your nails slightly digging into his back. It’s easy to forget that he was just your friend a few minutes ago. Just as easy as it is to miss the noise of a car pulling into the driveway. The driveway that belongs to the property. The property that you’re trespassing on. Neil perks up at the sound of a door slamming shut, and he curses under his breath.

“Fuck – hold your breath.”

You barely get the chance to fill your lungs with precious oxygen before he dives beneath the pool’s surface with you in his arms. Just in time before the owner of the house steps outside to check out the backyard. From his angle, you’re just barely obscured and distorted by the water. An optical illusion that, if explained, would surely have someone clutching their pearls. The homeowner pauses on the patio for a minute, and in the meantime, Neil is getting impatient. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, sneakily rocking his hips against yours in a tiny motion that’s enough to make your toes curl. In response, you tug on his hair, causing him to still once more. Your lungs are burning, and you clench your eyes shut, praying that the guy whose pool you’re “borrowing” just leaves already.

And, in a twist of sweet, sweet fate, he does. There’s a brief reflection of light as the glass sliding door to the living room of the house opens and closes once more, and Neil slowly pops his head up before giving you the go as well. Immediately, you resurface, both gasping for air, but grinning from ear to ear. Neil is panting, giving your thighs a quick squeeze before he pulls away from you, putting you back down.

“We need to leave,” he gasps. “Right now.”

It’s a daring escape, and as much as you try to stay quiet, both Neil and yourself start to giggle while you’re still getting out of the pool. Someone – most definitely the owner of the property – shouts and curses after you while you scramble to grab your things, and you almost get caught as Neil helps you climb over the wooden fence before you manage to dash off, hand in hand.

He pulls you along, and you can hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears, along with the pitter patter of your bare feet down the street and your breathless laughter. The heat quickly dries your skin, and you’re still grinning brightly as you reach Neil’s car that he parked a few streets away. Finally, finally, the two of you manage to catch your breath, and he reaches out to smooth his thumb over your jaw. A silent gesture of affection that he’s done a thousand times. But now, the context is a different one. For a moment, Neil is lost in your smile and your eyes, before he manages to catch himself, remembering how to speak.

“You know… we’re partners in crime now. Can I count on you to keep this between us?”

A breathy laugh is your answer, and now it’s your turn to bite your lip.

“I’m sure we can think of a few ways to keep each other’s mouths shut.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines @hanawrites404 @red-riding-wood

#cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis #neil lewis x you #watching the detectives #.moth writes

[schrodinger-swriter]

If you are still doing the fluff alphabet, could you do A B C E G J and K for Alastor?

A, B, C, E, G, J and K for Alastor

I'm still doing this alphabet! I'm unsure of how long I'll be doing it for, but I'll probably cut it when most of the character's have a good chunk of the alphabet done... or when people understandably lose interest. Which ever happens first!

Apologies if I seem a little off today in my writing, that horrid time of the month is approaching and it's throwing me off. I hope you enjoy, Anon!

ATTRACTION:

Now this one is interesting... see I know full well Alastor is aro, or at least somewhere on the spectrum. I'm just unsure of where he lies, if it was ever stated he was totally aromantic or something else. Personally I write him as demiromantic, or perhaps even greyromantic? We also need to take into account on if he's attracted to your romantically or for other reasons. He would probably like to spend his days with someone who keeps him on his toes, at least a fair amount. It keeps things interesting, and unless he has a reason to, he won't stick around if things get dull.

BONDING:

Alastor seems like the type to listen to music while sipping a glass of wine, or some other alcohol. Complete with sitting in front of a fireplace or some other piece that ties the aesthetic together. Reading, too probably. You're more than welcome to come and join him for some quiet time. I enjoy the thought that Alastor spends his time like this when he's not actively doing his job at the hotel or trying to network or build his power.

CUDDLING:

As most sinners are, he's very warm! Very skinny, though. Boney, even. Cuddling is rare, though, because he doesn't enjoy physical touch all the much outside of some occasion. He definitely tolerates your touch better than other's, but it's better to initiate cuddling when the mood is right. He may not initiate it often, however. Cuddling is exclusively done behind closed doors, he prefers his privacy.

EMOTION:

He shows just enough emotion where it's needed. Appearing happy with you and perhaps laughing if something funny has happened, or getting angry about something. He's not totally emotionless, and some of his true feelings do still shine through. But it's hard to tell where that starts, he's good at deceiving those around him into thinking whatever he wants them to think. He reacts and emotes with you, but he's not wearing his heart on his sleeve. In regards to romantic feelings, he does treat you more.. how does one word it..? How he behaves with Rosie, but more... casual and open.

GIFT GIVING:

Oddly enough, Alastor gives gifts fairly regularly. It won't be everyday, but you can bet that you'll always have a new bouquet of flowers by the time the previous ones had begun to die and wilt. Typically small things like that.

If you give Alastor anything, he will politely accept it. Maybe if you go into his room or into his radio tower, you'll find the gifts you've given him. It's a sweet thought, I think, he'd be ready to discard of anything he truly didn't want or need but here he is keeping the things you've given him, regardless of need.

JEALOUSY:

He conceals his jealousy fairly well, often outwardly portraying it by reminding you why you two are together. Re-enforcing the idea that you two are tied together. Be it literally or not.

He easily puts the other person into the ground, once more.. be it literally or otherwise... though that's assuming the other person doesn't turn tail and run when they realize you and the radio demon are an item. Though, that's also assuming they even know who he is..

He's confident that you won't do anything stupid or leave him.

KISSES:

He typically kisses you on the back of your hands and on your cheek. He does a little bow... dip.. when he takes your hand to place a kiss on the back of it. They're usually quick and fleeting.

Receiving he also enjoys cheek kisses. You guys don't do mouth kisses, tongue or not.. that often.. if ever. No harm there, besides kissing someone who's constantly smiling seems like it would be a little awkward.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #alastor x reader #alastor x reader headcanons #alastor x you #alastor imagine #radio demon x you #radio demon x reader

[hecateslore]

will you please give me simon comfort bc i’m on my period. it’s not normal comfort bc my cramps aren’t actually that bad rn.

(this will be tmi but i really don’t care)

so i started yesterday right? so i get in the shower and i take out my tampon before i shower so that i can wash my puss properly. well i forgot to put one back in after i showered so about 15 minutes later i go to curl my hair and i feel something ooze. i go to the bathroom and sure as shit i bled through. so i put hydrogen peroxide on my underwear and put a new pair on. i left my old underwear in the sink to sit for a minute so i could go rant to my mom ab how i should’ve been a boy.

cue my dad going to the bathroom and seeing my fucking bloodstained panties in the sink soaking in hot water and dawn dish soap and hydrogen peroxide. i get yelled at by my dad, MY DAD WHO LIVES WITH THREE WOMEN ALL WHO GET THEIR PERIOD ALL WHO HAVE BLED THROUGH BEFORE. and then to make it worse when i put the new tampon in i’m pretty sure i touched my own cervix and with the applicator thing. also, i go to finish curling my hair and i burnt myself.

pookie, nothing is going my wayyyyy. all i want is simon riley to alight at me and tell me everything is gonna be ok.

I read this shit like 4 times, you had me weak asf 😭😭😭 but I'll deliver for you pooks💗🎀!

You laid face down on your mattress, trying to suppress the the pain coming from your lower abdomen. Taking deep breaths trying to subdue the mini muscle spasms in your pelvic area. You spent majority of the morning sitting on the toilet free bleeding. Going from bed to toilet, eventually to shower now back to bed. It had been a particularly heavy day, with more cramps than normal.

"y' alright?" Simon peeped in your shared bedroom, obviously puzzled at your current position. You throw a thumbs up at him, earning a deep chuckle from the man. "Just have cramps." You say words muffled from your face being planted into the soft material. "You want me to grab you somethin'?" Simons tone concerned, "Actually, you joining me would be great." As soon as you finished your sentence you felt a dip on your side, a warm hand rubbed up and down your back, sometimes breaking pattern and rubbing circles on your lower. Soft moans slip your mouth, "maybe you should flip so I can rub your belly?" he reckons, so you do you both lie facing each other, his warm hand on your lower stomach rubbing and soothing the area.

"you’re warm." you nuzzle into his big frame, becoming sleepy from his body heat. "warm blooded." he pulls the blanket from under you both covering your bodies, "you can sleep for a bit, I'll be here." You hum in response, and let sleep tip toe quietly into your body. Waking 4 hours later to a knocked out Simon. (who snores loud asf 😧😧)

hope you feel better bae💗

#lunden’s response ❀— #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost fluff

[freminet-writings]

Hiii! I love your writing style, i am so starved of fremi content it’s embarrassing. So I was thinking Fem!reader x shark/mermaid Freminet

- Breeding kink

- Impregnation kink

- ,,,maybe a bit of dubcon if you’re comfortable

It’s mating season for sharkies! Freminet has been unsuccessful with finding a mate thus far and he’s getting a little desperate,,, enter reader who’s just trying to go for a swim<3

cw // dubcon, if you don't like it i respect your opinion but this is my account and i write what my followers ask for, so please don't send hate thank u

guys is the "..." after words too much sometimes 😭😭 i feel like i do it way too often idk

finally putting some time aside for yourself, you went to a secluded beach outside of the city, almost no one came here, especially not to swim, you knew you'd be all alone, or at least that's you thought

dipping your toes into the coldness made you shiver, but you slowly sat in a smaller part of the water, relaxing a bit before diving in, little did you know about the boy lurking around you

poor freminet, it was mating season for most ocean creatures, and he wasn't any different, but he just couldn't find anything to mate with! he was starting to get desperate, being the only member of his family without anyone, he felt like a disappointment

he swam closer to the shore, to get away and distract himself, until he saw someone in the water, no one ever comes over here, why was this girl here? he thought to himself, but he couldn't help the overwhelming sensations of his body calling for a mate

he moved closer and pushed you against the sand, startling you with a yelp "what-?!" you gasped as you locked eyes with a red faced boy, his blonde har wet and dripping onto your face with his mouth open as he breathed heavily

his teeth were sharp, and you felt scared as his hands gripped your wrists, keeping you pinned down, he was...so attractive, but you couldn't stop squirming under his tight hold

"stop moving..." his tone was soft as opposed to his actions "please~ let me mate with you...! you're so perfect, oh god...!" his teeth grazed against your neck and you flinched

"I'll treat you good! please please...! I'll be the best mate anyone could ask for...! I'm so... desperate, pleaseee!" his hand trailed down to squeeze one of your tits, you gasped but it felt strangely good...

he didn't seem to care for a verbal response, your little gasps when his finger rolled around your nipple was enough for him, stripping you of your swimsuit and positioning himself at your entrance, his instincts controlling his every move

"Ahhng..." he moaned as his cock settled inside of you, he stayed still for a moment for any discomfort to fade and immediately began his work, holding one of your arms above your head as he thrusted deeply, practically drooling from the feeling of finally being inside of a woman

he needed this, more than anything, his thrusts became faster and more rough, your body sliding roughly against the sand while you moaned and whimpered underneath him, he spread your legs wider as he thrusts

he leaned down and shoved his tongue into your mouth, swallowing each and every one of your sounds as he cums inside of you, you thought that was it but he turned you around and positioned you on all fours

he didn't even let a second go by before he was back to slamming his hips against you, pushing his seed deep inside of you "haah... you're....ah, my mate now,so i get to..." he groaned as his cock hit spots you didn't even know existed inside of you making you moan and cry out

"...breed you like this...! ah... you're....mine" his breathing was heavy, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to surely leave a bruise "i don't care...if i have to do this everyday... you're gonna be good, and let me fuck you full..."

"ah~! t-thats...mnnghh!" you couldn't even speak a full sentence, the way he thrusted into you so roughly, it was so good, you could feel him cumming all over again, but his pace didnt despair once

"you're gonna be so good...so good carrying my babies..." his eyes were wide and full of lust "you'll do that, won't you? my mate? you'll be pregnant and so...fucking beautiful" the only thought in his mind was pumping you full until he collapsed from exhaustion

the overwhelming sensation of his cock pounding into you, never stopping as you cum over and over again, he was fully into his own mindset, ready to keep you there until he was satisfied, you were his mate he'll take care of forever, he wasn't alone and desperate anymore

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact smut #freminet x female reader #freminet smut #freminet x reader #cw: dubcon

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 15

A/N: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it was getting too long, so SURPRISE you get two more! I'm sorry this has taken me so long. I've been dreading writing the end of this series, not because it'll be bad, but just because I want to do it right. But with some help from @ccab and @elvisfatass I think I finally got it pinned down. Please enjoy this penultimate chapter!

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of infidelity

Word count: ~2k

You're both too wrapped in the web of each other to notice anything beyond the boundaries of your intertwined bodies.

******

On the last day of your three weeks of rest, Elvis decides you should spend the day at the beach as a family. The weather is beautiful and you agree that nothing would be better. Together, you pack up some food, drinks, and all the things that you need for the kids. You're all back together in one bungalow, with your mom in the other one playing babysitter whenever you need her, and you've been living a dream together since you and Elvis reconnected. Every night you put the kids to bed and ignore portals left and right. He knows he'll have to go back eventually, but for right now he's content to stay with you as long as you need him.

When you finally get everything packed, you grab the kids and head down the beach to the water. You pick a spot under some provided beach umbrellas and set up camp. Your mom has stayed behind to rest, so it's just you and Elvis and the kids. She's brought them to the beach before, but they don't usually get in the water. They stay on the beach and make sandcastles and look for seashells and play. So, when Elvis suggests you all get in the water this time, the kids are especially excited. John Jessie is positively elated.

"I'll race ya to the water, dad!" He hollers as he runs towards the waves.

"Oh, no ya don't! No head starts!" Elvis runs up behind him and grabs him, holding him up in the air as he continues to run. They make their way to the water roughhousing the whole way. You take Erin's hand and walk casually to the shore. When you finally get there, Elvis and John Jessie are still playing, dunking each other and splashing. Erin approaches the water cautiously as a wave washes up and hits her feet. She immediately panics, screaming and trying to run away.

"Oh, no, baby, it's okay!" You shout, trying to grab her before she gets too far away. Swooping her up, you try to show her that the water is safe by dipping her toes in it, but she continues to shake and scream. She squirms to try to fight her way out of your arms and away from the water.

Next thing you know, Elvis is there. She turns to him and reaches her pudgy little hands out towards him. So far, she's been a little tentative around him. She knows he's someone important to her, but she hasn't fully bonded to him. You know it's been bothering him a lot, even though he hasn't said anything.

"Daddy!" She practically climbs out of your arms into his and he beams.

"Shhhh, sweetie, it's okay. You're okay." He takes her and speaks softly to her in a calming tone. Her little body visibly relaxes as he rubs on her back and hums gently.

"Scary, daddy." She whimpers.

"Oh, I know sugar. The water can be a little scary. Come on baby." He walks back up to the shore with her and sits down on the sand where the water washes up to his knees. Holding her on his lap, he pats the water and shows her that it's safe. With his encouragement, she uses her fat little hand to pat the water with him. She giggles and leans over to slap the water with both hands. You walk out to John Jessie and swim in the waves with him.

They play like this on the sand for the next ten to fifteen minutes. Eventually, you see them making their way further out in the water. It takes a while, but eventually he gets her to stand in the water up to her thighs and she squeals with delight. You watch as she points out to where you and her brother are and then reaches up to him for him to pick her up. His face is so soft and full of love that it absolutely melts you. He bends over and lifts her up to walk her out to where you are. As he does, she wraps her little arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. He closes his eyes and then looks up at the sky to keep his tears from falling. Then, you read his lips as he whispers.

"I love you too, baby girl."

Just then, John Jessie tackles you from behind and you turn to wrestle him into the waves. A few minutes later, Elvis makes it out to you with Erin in his arms. The four of you spend the next couple hours in the water.

At lunchtime, you eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches on the beach. Both kids have their daddy's taste for them and you watch the three of them revel in the joy of their sandwich. They both look so much like him. You wish it could always be like this.

******

That night, your mom takes the kids and you and Elvis have a nice dinner at a restaurant not far from the bungalow. You have plane tickets to go back home tomorrow, so there's something final about this evening. When you get back to the bungalow, Elvis kisses you deeply and then down your neck. Then, he stops and kisses your forehead. He walks slowly to the closet and pulls his jumpsuit out.

You know what this means. He's leaving.

"No..."

"I'm sorry, honey. You know I have to go back."

"Tonight?"

"I don't have a plane ticket to go home with you tomorrow. It needs to be tonight." You know this is true, but some part of you hoped he might stay this time. But you know he doesn't. The Aloha concert still exists.

You lie down on the bed on your side and try to hide your face as the tears stream down.

"Honey..."

"I'm sorry. I can't control it. I just need a minute."

"You know I would stay if I could. You know there's nothing I want more." He climbs into the bed behind you and presses himself against you.

"I know that. Doesn't make losing you any easier."

"You're not losing me. You're going to open portals for me every few months again, right?" You had forgotten about your old routine. Of course you can.

"Oh. Yeah, I will."

"Well, alright then. This is not goodbye." He moves your hair off of your neck and presses his lips to the nape. Then, he slides your shirt off of your shoulder and kisses there too. You moan and arch your back, pushing your ass into him. "There's my girl."

He slides a hand down the front of your body under your pants and begins to make circles on your sensitive button. You moan softly and he pushes further down to move his finger through your folds and feel your wetness, pressing his middle finger into your pussy.

"Oh, fuck, Elvis." He moves his finger in and out passionately as he continues to kiss your shoulder.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"God, yes." You reach down to slide your shorts off and he slides his finger out to unbutton his pants, pulling them down far enough to free his throbbing cock. He teases your entrance from behind and then slowly thrusts forward, filling you one inch at a time. Once he's inside you fully, he pulls your shirt up and over your head and unclasps your bra, dragging it down your front and off. He grabs your breast and squeezes gently, carefully catching your nipple between his fingers.

Only then does he begin to pump in and out of you. His hand moves back to your center and he rubs circles on your clit again with his fingertip. He switches and slides his finger quickly over the top of you and you feel the blood rush to your core. All the while, he's kissing your shoulder and the back of your neck, up to your earlobe.

"I love the way you feel, honey. I always have. I'll never forget this feeling as long as I live."

Your eyes pop open and your brain flashes forward to him singing Unchained Melody and you want to scream. You don't have much time left. Suddenly, you can't breathe. The feeling of drowning overwhelms you and your breath comes in deep gasps.

"Whoa, honey, what's going on?" He stops moving his hand and his hips. "Hey, talk to me?"

You pull off of him and roll over to face him, grabbing him and pulling him to you tightly.

"I can't lose you."

"I already told you, babe, I'm coming back." You nod and squeeze your eyes closed to keep the tears from falling. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm sorry. We can continue."

"Well. Not really." You look up into his face and he glances down to his dick that's gone soft and lays against his thigh.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, honey, it happens more and more these days." It's just another reminder of his age.

"No. We need to get you home."

"There's not much we can do about-" you push him onto his back and settle between his thighs. "Honey, what-?"

You lean forward and take him into your mouth. Even soft, it's not easy to fit all of him. You massage his balls in one hand and bounce your mouth on him.

"Fuck, honey. That's... working..."

"Mhmm." You hum on him and feel him get progressively harder. Running your tongue up the bottom of his shaft, you roll his foreskin back gently with one hand and lick a circle around his sensitive pink tip. When you pull back, his erection is harder than it was before. For good measure, you press your breasts together on either side of his cock and slide up and down.

"Goddamn, baby!" He looks down at you shocked as you fuck him with your tits.

"There. Think you can make love to me now?" You sit up and he stares at you incredulously.

"Yeah." He grabs you and practically throws you onto the bed. Without another thought, he climbs on top of you, pushes into you, and begins to fuck you passionately. He grunts as he slams his hips into yours over and over again. "We've been together for 15 years and that's the hottest thing you've ever done, baby."

"You liked that?"

"I fuckin' loved it. God, I love you." He kisses you deeply as he thrusts and you wrap your legs around him. You feel the tightness of your orgasm gather in your hips and it only takes a few more minutes of him rutting into you for you to tumble into oblivion. As you come back down, he whispers. "Mmmm... I'm gonna come, honey."

"Good. Fill me with it."

"Goddamn, baby! Who are you?" He groans loudly and pounds into you until he shudders and jerks and paints your insides with his release. You relax and let your legs fall back to the bed. He lays next to you as you both try to catch your breath. "Where did all that come from?"

"Well, I know what I'm sending you back to. I needed to know you'd remember me every time you're naked with someone else."

"You know I already wish it was you every time." You turn and look at him.

"Do you really?"

"Every time." He rolls over to you and runs his fingers down your cheek. That's when you hear the portal appear and he glances over to it. "I don't want to leave."

"Ah ha. Mission accomplished."

"You're mean, honey."

"I just love you so much." He leans in and kisses you with the full intensity of his affection for you.

"I love you more than anything." Then, he rolls out of the bed and quickly puts his jumpsuit on, carefully zipping it up the front. He leans over to you where you're still naked on the bed and presses his lips to your forehead.

"Kiss my babies for me. I'll see you soon." He turns to the portal and walks through quickly before it disappears. And then there's the old familiar pop and he's gone again.

Four and a half years. That's all you have left. It's not enough.

******

Are you ready for the end?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @tacozebra051 @deltafalax

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x you

[solar-sunnyside-up]

hey! sorry to bother you, but is there anything a teen without transportation in a rural area can do on their own? im pretty isolated, and theres barely anything around me.

Hey ya sprout 🌱

**A disclaimer Punk comes with some risk socially. Particularly if your in a rural area this risk goes up bc people Know You and also typically these spaces have a different vibe to alt ppl in general. Some activities are more or less risky and I'll try and do my best to give you a range of stuff from the whole spectrum! Of course this is a generalization of rural areas. Some palaces will be more cool then others depending in so many factors I couldn't go into here**

Rural solarpunk

Your gunna been to pick a topic, sorry babe. In order to not burn yourself out and in order to feel like you have an impact your gunna have to pick a cause to chip away at but I'll give you ideas! And remember just bc your focusing on one thing doesn't mean your ignoring or not helping others. Everything is interconnected and any help, helps all!

So let's give you some ideas to focus on:

Libraries- as a teen in particular you'll have access to a library at school, but depending on how big your town is you might have a public one as well. Become their biggest supporter! They are a great safe space, even conservative ones are still a good place to go for archiving/loitering purposes. They give you spaces to print stuff, to build clubs and community.

Archiving- if you cannot leave your house due to access you can always do stuff online and hear me out, i know when we do stuff online it feels like half points. Like we arent doing anything. I feel that with this blog, it feels so passive no matter how hard you work youll feel lesser. But Archiving is vital to humans! Think of the anthropologists wholl thank you down the road! Plus it does actually give you a way to have a physical representative of work your doing. Dvds, pirating media and archiving them to drives, collecting vinyls/tapes/cds!

DIY- To fight against fast fashion (although that barely exists in the towns I've been in tbh) and to stick out** you could make your own patches, battlejackets, gloves, etc.. They are statement pieces you can wear whenever your in town/at school/social spaces that ppl know what you stand for and who you are. Depending on who/where you are this might be risky so take what you can bare ok? You don't have to wear these items too you can just make them for later on!

Little libraries/little pantries- in a rural space you have more Gruella tactics you can take if you do them in random abandoned spaces. You could build a waterproof little pantry and stock it and leave info somewhere about it for ppl to drop off/pick up items. Stock it with mittens! With canned goods! With books! You might be able to do a space like this at school/library depending in how cool your town is too!

Zines- You could look into making a zine and even if it's digital you could have the QR code for download in places (stickers on lamp posts, flyers in school bathrooms, hidden in a churches pamphlet stacks >.>) making a zine is a cool task that is time consuming and informative and fun!

Vandalism- like I said you can often print off stuff at Libraries, or usually you can find a place to print stuff off near or at post offices depending on how modern your rural space is. if you have your own printer this will reduce your risk by quite a bit though! Create/find stickers or posters you want to toss across town or even school. I'd recommend starting off with some stickers and see how their handled, dipping your toes is important with these kinda things. If your really feeling it, and you know some abandoned places Moss Graffiti is also a good option! I've know ppl who have converted old abandoned stored to skate parks (I honestly have no idea how they built the ramps out of concrete but damn!! Good job guys!)

Also I'll leave you with 2 book recommendations as well-

Moxie - a RIOT GRRRL story about a girl who gets so fed up with her conservative town she makes a feminist zine and distributes it via girl bathrooms (even having a basically me too stickers and encouraging ppl to put it on boys lockers who have assaulted them). I know there's a movie, didn't seem to capture the same vibe tho so book!

Braiding Sweetgrass - this focuses a lot on reconnecting and adding story to nature around us and having science along side spirituality

#sporut guide #reaping week #solarpunk #hopepunk #anticapitalism #punk #rural #cottagecore #community #ecopunk #direct action

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THREE (see full series list here)

1992

The first day of term is always fun. Everyone arrives at breakfast happy and excited, the first years arriving particularly early because they're scared they'll miss it.

You take a seat at the staff table, a copy of Astronomy's Articles under your arm. You settle yourself between McGonagall and Hagrid. McGonagall's currently engaged in conversation with Dumbledore.

"Morning, Hagrid," you greet cheerfully and he looks up, giving you a great grin.

"G'mornin'! 'appy first day of term!" He booms and you chuckle.

"Happy first day of term."

You pile breakfast items on your plate, summoning a teapot from the middle of the table to pour some tea into your cup. With a wave of your wand, Astronomy's Articles opens itself in front of you on the first page, and you read as you eat.

"Anything interesting?" You hear Dumbledore's voice beside you and with the call of your first name you turn to him and shrug.

"Nothing I hadn't seen myself! There should be a meteor shower at around 12-ish on Friday night," you reply. "Meteor showers are wonderful, I would definitely recommend."

Dumbledore hums thoughtfully. "I have had the treat of viewing quite a few meteor showers in my lifetime," he says. "Once, I could have sworn that the meteors seemed to form the shape of a very animated chocolate frog."

McGonagall chuckles quietly and you join her.

"How do you know it was a chocolate frog and not just a regular frog?" You ask.

Dumbledore considers this for a moment. "I suppose I must have had a particular craving for chocolate that evening," he replies simply.

His plate is empty, clearly having awoken much earlier than you, and you return to your breakfast, flipping the page of your magazine onto a puzzle page, littered with crosswords, word searches, anagrams and some sudoku squares. Something for later, you think.

"How was your summer, Minerva?" you ask. Her first name has always felt odd on your tongue, after you spent 7 years of your life calling her Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, it was fine," she replies. "Nothing too extravagant."

"Did you go to any quidditch matches?"

"A few. I seen — "

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

You jump at the loud yell, turning to the source of the screech: a red envelope floating in front of Ron Weasley's face at the Gryffindor table. You exchange a look with McGonagall, returning your eyes to the scene playing in front of you.

Mrs Weasley's outraged yells are so loud that plates and spoons rattle on the Gryffindor table. Harry is wide-eyed beside him, watching in horror as Ron dips so low in his seat that only the top of his crimson forehead was visible.

" — STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE — "

You wince, knowing well how it feels to receive a howler at school.

Poor Ron.

"— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED — "

Harry's face has turned the same shade as Ron's, and every eye in the Great Hall is on the howler.

"Bloody hell, just run out of the hall, Ron..." you mutter under your breath in exasperation.

McGonagall hums in agreement beside you.

"— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

The howler then spins around to Ron's younger sister, Ginny, and its tone changes drastically. "Oh, and Ginny, dear, congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."

The howler drops and bursts into flames and curls into ashes. Harry and Ron sit stunned, as though trying to comprehend just what had a happened. A few people laugh before gradually a babble of talk breaks out again.

You chuckle, opening your magazine again and flipping the next page. "Happens to the best of us."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You wander down to the dungeons, your shoes audibly clicking against the hard stone floors. You wrap your arms tightly around your body, your hands bunching your woolly sweater at your sides.

You had spotted a poster for a 'duelling club' run by Lockhart and it had piqued your interest. You wanted to attend to make sure someone didn't die or get fatally injured because Lockhart seemed the type to not know a defensive jinx if it punched him in the face.

You push open the big wooden doors to the room he's occupied. Several students turn to look at you, but your eyes land on another man standing beside Lockhart, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Hm. Looks like Snape and I have had the same idea.

"Seems we have a late comer! No matter, join in with the rest, young lady!" Lockhart chirps.

You sigh, walking up to him to stand next to Snape. "It's me, Gilderoy." You tell him your name and he just blinks blankly.

You narrow your eyes in confusion. "We work together."

Blank.

"I literally sat beside you at breakfast this morning? You asked if I'd read your book."

Lockhart just stares in confusion, before his face contorts into an overdramatic picture of recognition. "Ah, yes! Yes, of course, I — uh — I recognise you, yeah! Of course I do!"

You scoff, rolling you eyes as he turns around to face the students. "Prick," you mutter under your breath.

You watch as Lockhart steps out onto the long, narrow stage and walks ostentatiously along it. "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me?"

A beat.

"Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works."

You have to cough to cover up your derisive snort.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart says, flashing a wide smile. The look on Snape's face when Lockhart calls him his assistant is absolute gold. Then, his eyes lock on you and he pauses for a moment, nodding to himself. "And, well, we also have our dear, uh...Astrology Professor here too!"

"Astronomy."

"Astronomy! That's what I said," Lockhart continues. "Professor Snape tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry — you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

You raise your eyebrows, glancing over at Snape as he pulls his wand from inside his robes, stepping out onto the stage to face Lockhart. As much as you have a...tumultuous relationship with Snape, you would definitely not be as keen and enthusiastic as Lockhart is to try and duel him.

You're excited to see that smug grin wiped off Lockhart's face, though you would love to do it yourself. You bet he'd remember your name after that.

Lockhart and Snape turn to face each and bow, though Lockhart's is considerably more flamboyant with much twirling of his hands while Snape jerks his head irritably. They raise their wands in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart tells the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"One...two...three — "

Both of them swing their wands up and over their shoulders. Snape cries, "Expelliarmus!".

There's a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart's blasted off his feet, flying backwards off the stage wildly and smashing into the wall.

You bite your lip to stop your laughs.

You notice some of the Slytherin students cheering while others nervously watch Lockhart in anticipation, collectively breathing a sigh of relief when he unsteadily staggers to his feet.

The look on his face is priceless.

"Well, there you have it" he says, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm — as your see, I've lost my wand — ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it instructive to let them see..."

"Well, what spell would you have used, Professor Lockhart?" You pipe up, ultimately stirring the pot to make for a more interesting evening.

You remember when there was a duelling club in your school days. You'd had the pleasure of being paired with Lucius Malfoy, delicately delivering a few hexes to him. He'd had to walk around school with an ear the size of his ego, which was quite the difficult feat because it was exceptionally gargantuan.

Lockhart blinks stupidly at you, rolling a hand through his wavy blond hair. "Well, the Shield Charm, of course!"

"Shouldn't you demonstrate that as well?"

"Well, I — I hardly think the students want to see another demonstration...I'm sure they're dying to try it for themselves!" Lockhart stumbles.

You shrug. "I just think the students might want to witness...what does it say in your book? 'An extraordinary display of barely comprehensible wizarding prowess'?"

Lockhart's mouth opens and closes twice as he tries to think of something to say in return, before landing on a great grin and wiggle of his eyebrows at you. "Well, alright then! I'll let you try and defend my spells, young lady!" He eyes Snape, laughing nervously. "Best give you a break, Professor Snape!"

Snape mutters something under his breath and steps off the end of the stage to stand beside his Slytherin students.

You pull your wand from your pocket, facing Lockhart, bowing.

"One...two...three!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

A blast of red light explodes from Lockhart's wand, and as though there was an invisible shield in front of you, it bounces off harmlessly and is deflected into the roof.

Lockhart lets out a relieved sigh, as if he was expecting it to rebound and hit him instead. He chuckles lightly, regaining his confidence. "It's a good thing I went easy on you there!"

You blink at him, unimpressed. "Truly."

"Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professors, if you'd like to help..."

You start moving through the crowd, but Snape beats you to Harry, Ron, and Hermione first. You watch as he splits the two boys up, Ron huffing as he moves over to Seamus Finnigan, and Snape beckons Draco Malfoy over to pair with Harry.

You wince, well aware of their rivalry. They almost remind you of James and Snape when they were young, though that was a much more inequal affair at the time.

You sigh, pairing others together and stepping out of their way to observe their moves.

Well.

Disastrous is a kind word for the carnage you witness.

Lockhart is screaming hysterically over the battling crowd, attempting to quell the fights. The pair in front of you, Pansy Parkinson and Parvati Patil, are unleashing whatever horrible spells they can think of. Pansy's face has broken into a million boils, and Parvati's left hand is currently repeatedly hitting her own face.

"Hey!" You shout at the two. "Finite Incantatem!"

Parvati's arm stops moving, and Pansy's face stops breaking out. Some of the boils recede and disappear, while some linger and you sigh.

"Madam Pomfrey's," you say to her and she scampers off, screeching about Parvati on her way. "Where the bloody hell did they learn those spells..." you move away from Parvati.

Lockhart skitters through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "I said disarm only. I think you may need another demonstration on how to block unfriendly spells...how about a volunteer pair — Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," says Snape. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox. How about Malfoy and Potter?"

You scowl. How could he be so cruel? "Mr Longbottom is perfectly capable of performing a simple shield spell, Professor Snape."

He glares at you, black eyes glinting maliciously. "Well, best not allow for any risks, yes?"

"You're being unreasonable — "

Lockhart looks between the two of you, as though choosing which side is the safer option. In other words, which of you he'd least like to piss off.

"Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, let's see how you fare!" Lockhart booms nervously and you click your tongue, glaring at Snape. His face contorts into a twisted smile as the two boys step up onto the stage.

"Now, Harry," Lockhart says, "when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raises his own wand, attempting a complicate sort of wiggling action.

He drops it.

He picks it up, saying, "Whoops — my wand is a little over-excited."

Snape bends down to Malfoy's ear, whispering something in it. Harry looks nervously up at Lockhart and says, "Professor, can you show me that blocking thing again?"

Lockhart cuffs Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

You snort. He is his father's son, that's for sure.

Lockhart isn't listening though, excitedly shouting, "Three...two...one...go!"

Malfoy raises his wand quickly and yells, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand explodes. You watch in shock as a long, black snake shoots out of it, falling heavily onto the floor between them and raises itself, ready to strike.

"Don't move, Potter," Snape says lazily, clearly enjoying the spectacle in front of him. "I'll get rid of it."

"Allow me!" Lockhart shouts, and before you can do anything, he brandishes his wand at the snake and there's a loud bang, throwing the snake ten feet up into the air and landing back down on the floor with a loud smack. Enraged and hissing furiously, it slithers straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley and raises itself again, fangs bared, poised to strike.

Panic sets in through your body and you flick your wand, frantically yelling, "Immobu — "

Then, a hissing sound. You watch in disbelief as Harry walks forward towards the snake, hissing at it, and it slumps to the floor, docile, its eyes now on Harry.

Justin stares at Harry in horror. "What do you think you're playing at?" He shouts, and storms out of the hall.

"Harry..." you say gently, trying to appear calm and collected, despite genuinely thinking you may have jumped out of your skin.

Snape steps forward, waving his wand, and the Snape vanishes in a puff of black smoke.

Ron grabs the back of Harry's robes, tugging it and pulling him out of the hall. It's utterly silent and tense in the room and you swallow hard.

"Alright, everyone, I think it's time to get going," you announce, and the students obediently depart from the room, muttering between themselves.

Snape makes to leave but you grab onto the arm of his robe angrily and he turns to glare at you.

"What were you thinking, telling Malfoy to summon that snake? He was supposed to be practicing a shield charm!" You snap.

"A let down on Potter's part. He was unable to cast the shield charm."

"Oh, don't give me that. You knew what you were playing at, you shifty — "

"It is my fault," Lockhart chimes in and you think you can genuinely feel your will to live slipping from your grasp. "I weakened the snake to allow for young Mr Potter to have a better chance, but it seems I should have — "

You spin and glare at Lockhart. "Oh, really, is that what you were doing? Because it seemed to me like you just mumbled out whatever sounds came to your thick skull and hoped it'd do something!"

"Now, now, young lady — "

"It's Professor, you dimwit! I am a grown woman, I am your colleague! Don't patronize me!"

You scoff, anger bubbling terribly in your veins, as you brush off the front of robes and glare at the two idiot men in front of you. "Don't you ever put your students in danger again. You should be ashamed of yourselves."

You spin on your heel and angrily storm out of the hall.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

->-> read chapter four here!

#harry potter #fanfiction #the marauders #hp #hp fanfic #fanfic #angst #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #angst with a happy ending

[luveline]

Hi! Could you please write a daddy-daughter day with Roan and Eddie? Like Eddie and Roan listening to Eddie's music, going to Wayne's, and just doing cute things like when Reader went out with her friends please?

hi sweetheart yes I can, I loved this idea, tyty! dad!eddie x fem!reader, 3k (cw reader is tipsy at the end)

"Okie-smokie," you say, standing at the door with two options. "Ro, pink or silver?" 

You show Roan your earrings. Eddie crams his foot into his sneaker and ties the laces, listening as Roan deliberates your two choices. "I think you should wear the pink ones because you have pink gems on your bracelet." 

He can hear your smile. "I think so too. Thank you, lovely girl." 

"Roan, you have your shoes on still?" Eddie asks, toeing into his second shoe. He stands tall when he's done and brushes down his jeans. "Coat?" 

"I don't know where my coat is," she says. 

"I'll get it," you say. "It's in our room." 

"Okay. You have your purse?" Eddie asks. 

You laugh as you run up the stairs. "Stop doing your dad checklist! We have everything." 

Roan waits by the door in what Eddie believes to be her nicest outfit ever. He's been experimenting with elaborate hairstyles, and this one takes the cake. 

He'd woken her up early for a shower and washed her hair, some tactile bonding to start what's looking to be a great day. She'd nearly fallen back asleep, and again when he was drying it with the cold diffuser. After that he sectioned it and pulled two triangular sections from the front backward, and with the help of four rubber bands and a little bit of hair mousse, he secured it out of her face, curled and pretty. 

She's wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt under stiff black dungarees with black sneakers. You suggested white sneakers, but Eddie joked that he wouldn't make her look too perfect (her white sneakers are full of mud from when they went looking for frogs last weekend, and he hasn't told you yet). 

"Hey, can you get her, uh, her blue jacket? The navy one? I think her vinyl coat will be too uncomfortable with the short sleeves." 

You appear on the top step already holding it. "I'm psychic." 

Once Roan has been helped into her coat and Eddie's made sure you both have money and water, he locks the door to your (his) house with his key. It took him a long time to start calling it his house. Not that he ever thought you'd shoot him out of it. So far, there hasn't been a day since you got together where he worried it wouldn't last. 

And here the kissing begins. 

You might pretend otherwise, but Eddie knows you're jealous of today. Not in a cruel way, the envy isn't eating you alive or anything, but he knows you wishes you could come, and he also knows you know that's not how these kinds of days work. If you're with them, Eddie would have to share his attention. Alone with Roan, he can pour it all in. You're not so codependent as to resent that, and you're happy for them. But again, you're jealous. 

"Why did I make plans?" you ask him, your hands bunched in his t-shirt. 

"Because you'll have fun," he says, dipping his head down to kiss you. 

You smile and lift one shoulder. "I will. You have fun too, okay?" You bend at the waist to kiss Roan's cheek. After a moment, you kiss the other. "My big girl, you look so grown up today, we should've taken more photos." 

"I think ten was enough," Roan says.

"It wasn't," you and Eddie say at the same time. You sigh morosely, though it's not entirely genuine. 

"Okay, I love you both. Say hi to Uncle Wayne for me." 

"We love you," Eddie says. You pout and get in your car. You've parked behind him, so they stand waving at you as you leave. "She loves you so much," Eddie says to Roan. 

Roan shrugs her shoulders, pleased and trying to be humble about it. "Dad," she grumbles. 

He puts Roan in her car seat and they drive to Uncle Wayne's for lunch. It's not far, but it's enough to listen to Roan's tape, featuring her current favourite song, a nonsensical rock song called 'She Don't Use Jelly' by The Flaming Lips. It's not Eddie's taste but it's worth it just to listen to Roan shouting along to the song, her building excitement before she gets to sing, "He uses maaaa-gazines!" 

After that is Sheryl Crow. Eddie wants to switch the tape to something harder but Roan's already singing, and it's so funny to hear her sing 'All I Wanna Do' that he can't make himself change it. He rolls down the windows so she can feel the wind on her face and she dances in her seat, tripping over the words with gusto. 

Sheryl Crow is all your influence. As soon as the song ends he pops the tape and drives the car at a crawl. He's had Roan's favourite, and then yours, but now it's time for real music. He isn't raising no prep. 

Roan is more than used to rock music. She loves it most of the time, though her taste complicates as she ages. Eddie puts on a tape you made him painstakingly at Christmastime full of ripped live performances, the sort of music you can't find on CD yet. The very first song is 'Sad But True', Metallica live from Mexico, '93. Roan bobs her head up and down with the beat. Eddie literally could not be more proud, better when she pulls out her air guitar and challenges him on who's best. 

After almost crashing the car into the picnic bench on Wayne's front yard, Eddie pulls Roan out, and grins as she races up the steps to the door. She doesn't knock —Wayne's home is Eddie's home is her home. 

"Uncle Wayne!" she bellows. 

The smell of sausages and fried onions is inescapable. Eddie loves Wayne, and he loves his extra special hotdogs, but he can already sense the mess Roan's about to make. Ketchup stains have defeated half her wardrobe over the years. 

Wayne's turning from the stove with a huge grin. He wipes his hands on a rag and chucks it at the counter, bending down with his arms opening to catch Roan as she sprints at him. 

"Oh," he groans, "Hi, Roanie. Where have you been? I told your dad eleven thirty, and it's almost twelve." 

"We had to help Y/N find her nice pants," she says, wrapping her arms around Wayne's neck. 

Wayne gives her a grandfatherly squeeze, adoring but nonchalant. 

"We didn't have to help," Eddie says, "but she made breakfast, so it would've been mean to not help." 

"Still sounds like dad's fault," Wayne says. "Yeah?" 

"Yes," Roan says, turning in Wayne's arms to beam at her betrayed father. 

Wayne kisses her head and puts her down. He asks how you are, to which Eddie can answer honestly. You're good, and you're very happy lately making wedding arrangements even though you don't know what you're doing for lots of it. Roan is still torn on whether she wants to be the best man or the maid of honour. You'd been winning, until Eddie told her she could still wear a dress as best man. 

The hotdogs are ready for eating straight away. Unlike Eddie, Wayne is prepared for Roan's mess. He pins a bib around her that he's had since she was two with a rabbit on the front. It should've been trashed a while ago, but in a show of quiet love, Wayne scrubs it spotless every single time she wears it. The white background is still a bright white. 

They eat hot dogs and talk about nothing. Wayne and Eddie see each other every single day, but Wayne and Roan definitely don't. Now that she's getting older, there's been talks of consistent sleepovers. Eddie doesn't want Wayne to spend all week in work and then have her on the weekend because, while she is an absolute delight, Roan is also hard work, and especially on Fridays when she's tired. But Wayne wants to have her, and Roan loves him more than anything, so sooner or later Eddie's going to have to say yes. 

He won't lie, he could use the break. But not tonight. 

"Dad," Roan says, fried onions and bread falling down her front and back onto her plate.

"Yes, my rude girl?" 

She licks her lips. Wayne tilts her head back to wipe her mouth clean with a paper towel. "Thank you, Uncle Wayne. Dad, can we get a movie tonight?" 

"Yeah, babe, we can get a movie, but I thought you wanted to go to the Hawk?" 

"There's no space for talking in the Hawk." 

"And you want to talk to me," he summarises. 

"Duh. Wayne, can I have more smustard, please?" she asks through chews. 

Wayne meets Eddie's eyes as he squirts mustard on her hotdog. It's a look Eddie didn't know he wanted to see until Wayne started giving it, a mixture of she's funny and you're raising a good one, kid. 

Eddie cleans up the hotdog mess before Wayne can stop him and they dawdle, not wanting to leave but with things to do. They're ten minutes late for their manicure appointments. 

The Hawkins manicurists are slightly judgemental middle-aged women who love Roan. They've seen her a couple of times, once when Eddie had been on a few dates with you but was far from your boyfriend, and Roan wanted, "Pretty nails, like Y/N," after she'd seen your painted nails for a wedding, and then a couple of times after with you, but it's been a while since he was here, and the new young nail technician surprises Eddie. 

"Hi," she says, smiling at Roan, "I know you, don't I? You and your mom came in a couple of weeks ago. How did your gems last?" 

"They came off when we went waterfall walking," Roan says, sounding exuberantly pleased by this. 

"Wow, waterfall walking, that sounds fun!"

"Yes!" 

Eddie grabs Roan under the armpits to help her into the tall chair. "It was fun until her wellies split. She had cold feet." 

"Oh no. What do we want today, miss adventurer? The same as last time, or are we trying something new?" 

Roan looks up at Eddie. He takes a seat beside her, her coat in his lap. "Whatever you want, Ro. No, um, extensions though." 

"No, I wouldn't suggest it," says the nail tech. "Maybe I can show you some pictures and you can see if you like something? I can do whatever you want me to." 

Roan ends up asking for nails that look like the ocean. The nail technician is an artist, creating a beautiful illusion of real water on her nails, and colourful sea creatures on the nails big enough to accommodate them. 

"Are you bringing your wife back soon?" the nail tech asks, covering Roan's skin with her hand as her nails cure under a UV lamp. 

"She's not married, yet," Roan says. 

"She's my fiancé," Eddie says mildly. He kind of liked wife better. "And she doesn't let me spoil her often, so probably not." 

"She couldn't stop talking about you," the nail tech says. "And you," —she nods at Roan— "I was kind of jealous. I'm still jealous. I hope my baby comes out as pretty as you." 

"You're having a baby?" Roan asks, gasping, almost knocking over the UV lamp. 

"I am! Yeah, I am, she's not coming anytime soon though. But by Christmas I'll have her." The nail tech brings a buffing file to Roan's pinky finger and sands against the edge gently. "She better be as nice as you, miss adventurer." 

"I think Ro might be one of a kind," Eddie says. 

Roan smiles at him as though he's hung the moon. 

They visit the video store after the nail salon, hand in hand. Roan is more than ecstatic at the aquarium on her nails, and it's making her sweet. She walks as close to Eddie as she can without stepping on his shoes, and doesn't let go for anything. Or, almost anything. 

"Steve!" she shouts when she sees him, Harrington himself bent over the kids aisle arranging movies. 

"Oh, no," he groans. Roan runs full pelt at him and he pretends to almost fall over. Roan laughs and tugs him back up, and he says thank you with a short hug. "Hi, Roan." He looks up to see Eddie, and glares with a mock disdain. "You. Where's my spirit level?" 

"Your–" Eddie's lips part, and then snap shut. "My bad, Stevie. I still have it, I swear."

"Well give it back, I want to mount my new TV on the wall and I can't because you never answer the phone." 

"I do," Eddie protests. 

"No, you don't, I think I've spoken more to Y/N since you moved in with her than I've spoken to you. Which, actually, I prefer her. And I want you to invite her to my housewarming party next week." 

"Am I invited, too?" Roan asks. 

Steve smiles at her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Of course you are. Robin's going to bring Mr. Stink too." 

Mr. Stink is Robin's big fat tabby cat. Roan loves him so much she cries every time she has to say goodbye to him.

Eddie and Steve hug and only pat each other on the back once, which is progress. Having guessed why they're there, Steve pulls them into the backroom to show her all the new kids movies, and lets Roan pick as many as she wants to put on his account. Despite his hug and his party invitation, Of course you're invited too, Steve glares at Eddie fiercely from across the checkout counter. "Do not bring them back late, Munson. You cost me six dollars, last time." 

"And I tried to give it back to you," Eddie says, the bag of movies hanging from his elbow, Roan the other. 

"Don't insult me. Bye, my favourite Munson, make sure you bring me a nice drawing for my new fridge," Steve says. He speaks much more kindly to Roan than he does Eddie, but Eddie doesn't think for a moment that Steve doesn't like him. They've just always been like this. 

"Okay! Tell Robin I miss her, please, and Mr. Stinky." 

"Anything for you. Bye, bye," he calls. 

Eddie waves at him and they stroll out of the video store like kings, Eddie with all their movies and Roan with one of the huge bags of ready popped popcorn. She's walking on sunshine with every step, nearly skipping by the time they reach the car. 

He doesn't understand it. Eddie's just Eddie. He doesn't get it, but he has a moment when he's strapping her back into her third car seat, knowing one day she's gonna be so tall they can get away with a booster seat. One day she won't need a car seat at all. He just loves her so much he can’t handle it. 

"Show me those nails again, babe," he says. 

She pulls her wrist up, her fingers hanging down, and says, "Lookit." 

He loves her. She learned it from you. You'd done it as a joke, Roan does it because it makes her feel cool. 

"Gorgeous." He pulls her hands into his. "What else do you want to do today?" 

She shrugs. Eddie strokes down a crop of windblown baby hairs with a licked thumb, waiting for her to decide, but she must get distracted. She reaches out to do the same to him, moving his hair behind his ear. 

"That's for me," she says, looking at the little 'R' behind his ear. 

"Yeah, that's for you. I was going to get your full name, but I couldn't take the pain," he lies. 

Her nose wrinkles in amusement. "Then how did you get the big ones on your arms?" 

"I was less of a crybaby when I had those ones." 

"You're not a crybaby, dad," Roan says, giggling.

He pouts and sniffles at her. "You really mean that?" he asks tearfully. 

Roan pushes his shoulder lightly. 

"Did you decide what you want to do?" 

She nods vehemently. When she tells him what she wants, Eddie really could burst into tears. 

You're a little tiny bit tipsy when you come home that night. You try not to show it, but Eddie knows you better than he knows the back of his own hand, and as soon as you sit down he's taking big sniffs of you to make sure you know you've been found out. 

"Stop, you're like a puppy," you grumble fondly. "Wait, where's my Ro?" 

"Bathroom. Come here, let me take your shoes off." 

You lift a tired foot into his lap. "I had, uh, a margarita. And a cosmo, too. It was happy hour!" 

"Sweetheart, I couldn't care less what hour it was as long as you had fun." 

You preen, your face swinging into his shoulder. One of your earrings jabs his bicep. "Did you have a good day with Roan?" 

"We had a great day." He struggles to get your shoe off as you slide down his arm. "Maybe my favourite day with her I've ever had that wasn't with you." 

"Really? I'm so happy. Oh, wow, what? Nice nails, handsome." 

You pull his hands into your lap. They're painted in a uniform black, but there's a clownfish painted on his thumbnail. "They're super goth," you say. 

"You think so?" 

"The clownfish is a choice. Can I get one too?" 

Eddie kisses your flushed cheek. "Yeah, babe. The nail tech tried to get me to have a seahorse–" 

"Bit on the nose." 

"Exactly," he laughs. "Exactly. But our day was awesome. She was such an angel, and she must've made everyone smile everywhere we went, she–" Eddie sits up, speaking with pride in every word. "We went to Wayne's, and the nail salon, and the video store because she said the movies aren't good for talking and she wanted to talk to me, and I asked her if she wanted to do anything else, and she said," —Eddie squeezes your thigh— "she'd do anything as long as we could have a hug." 

"She has you in the palm of her hand," you laugh, looking up at him with eyes nearly closed. 

Roan skips into the room, hands dripping water, and catapults herself over the armrest back into Eddie's lap. Without asking, she dries her hands on his t-shirt. 

"Hello, princess," you say. 

Roan drags the half-eaten bag of popcorn over to your side. "Hi. I saved you some." 

You take a handful of popcorn and promptly spill it down the front of your shirt. Roan helps you by picking them off of you and eating them, cramming her mouth until her cheeks have chipmunked. 

"Don't do that, you'll choke," Eddie says.

"I won't," she says, little bits of popcorn spraying him. 

"Ro," he laughs, his hand held over her mouth, laughing so hard it wobbles her in his lap. 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4